


Move Along

by amanda_jolene



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Gen, TW: Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1978800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanda_jolene/pseuds/amanda_jolene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rae is hurting and Finn knows he can't fix everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move Along

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Self-harm talk. If this a triggering subject for you, I encourage you not to read this work.

She doesn’t want to have sex. 

It’s not a big deal and he’s not mad but he is puzzling over what changed. Yesterday they were ravenous for each other and spent all of lunch in the girl’s bathroom with the out of order sign and then again in a listening booth at the record shop, taking stupid chances of getting caught and now they have an empty and she pushes his hand away and says “No.” 

“I didn’t hurt you at the record store, did I?” He asks concerned that maybe he had been a bit too rough but time was of the essence and his finesse was a little off. 

“No.”

But she’s off today, too. They’ve had times like this where she’s trapped in a well deep inside of herself and all he can do is yell down and ask if she’s ok. “Rae?” 

“I should probably go home.” 

She’s on her feet and so is he because he doesn’t want her to go. They don’t have to be doing anything for him to love the time he has with her. Hell, he would watch paint dry if he could watch it with her. “Let me drive you home.”

“No, that’s ok.”

He’s gutted because he really has obviously done something if she’s this desperate to get away from him. He searches his brain for whatever the fuck he’s done and all he can think is maybe he’s an idiot who can’t read the body language of his girlfriend and maybe she really wasn’t so hot for him yesterday, maybe he was projecting his own feelings on her and he’d forced her into something she didn’t want to do.

“You know you can always say no, right?” He asks her quietly as she grabs her bag off the bed.

“No to what?” 

“To… anything you don’t want to do. I’m fine with whatever you want to do… or don’t want to do.” 

She shifts awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. I just… I…” She drops her bag and sits back on the bed, head in her hands. Oh fuck. “Finn, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just… I did something and I…” 

He sits beside her on the bed and goes to trace a question mark on her thigh but his finger only moves an inch before he feels exactly what she did and his throat closes and she’s crying. He’s running through a list of things he could say and they all feel terribly wrong and he doesn’t want to hurt her because she’s already hurt herself. 

“Can I hug you?” he manages and is relieved when she nods. His arms are around her and her head face is in the crook of his neck and he can feel the tears on his skin and they’re suddenly on his cheeks, too, because he’s crying and he doesn’t know when that happened. 

They sit together like for a long time until neither of them have any tears left. She lets go of him and he knows she’s ashamed and nothing he says is going to make her feel better. “Will you stay? Only if you want to, though.” 

She nods and he goes downstairs to make some tea. 

He doesn’t get it. Not one bit. He’s been down before, depressed even, but he can’t imagine what it takes to get to a point where a razor blade of on your skin feels anything like relief or a solution or a plan. He’s never been stomped down like her, though. Finn’s always been popular and well liked and no one has ever bullied or taken the piss out of him on the street for just fucking existing. 

When he hands her the cup, he wipes his hands nervously on his jeans and thinks about sitting down but he’s not sure. Should he? How should he act? Normally? Should he say something? “I-“ What? You what? He doesn’t know so he just sits down with his arms resting on his thighs, hunkered in on himself. He thinks he should be better at this (she’s his girlfriend, he should always have the right words to say) but he doesn’t know how to proceed. 

“You’re disgusted with me.” 

“No,” he says quickly, spine straightening. “No, I’m not and don’t think that, please. I just don’t want to say anything to upset you.” He thinks about asking her to tell him what to do to make it better but she probably doesn’t know and it’s time for him to start figuring this stuff out if he’s serious about making their relationship work. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” 

“Ok. Do you want to watch a movie?” 

She shakes her head. 

“We’ll do whatever you want. I’ll take you home if that’s what you want. Or I’ll shut up and we can just be quiet. Whatever you need.” 

They are perfectly silent for a long time. She doesn’t drink the tea and he doesn’t think he’s breathing. What now? What next? She had been fine yesterday and now… what had caused this? 

“I haven’t hurt myself in a long time,” she finally says but she keeps her head down. “Months, actually. The longest I’ve ever gone without hurting myself.” 

“What… why…” he sighs as his thought trip over each other. 

“Sometimes it’s just like these feelings build up, you know? Like I’m ok and everything’s great and then suddenly… the floor’s gone and I’m on the edge of something terrible. I can’t explain it, Finn, I wish I could. Sometimes I hurt so much on the inside that I have to do something to bring the pain out or I’ll burst.” She meets his eyes and cocks her head to the side. “I’m mental, I tell ya.”

It’s her defense mechanism. I’m mental, I’m loony, crazy, insane. She’s not, though. Finn knows she’s not. She’s just a scared girl who’s never been told that she worth more than the sum of her skin and hair and she needs to be reminded of that fucking daily to make up for 16 years of being treated like dirty water. “Rae. Anytime you feel like that, I want you to call me and I don’t care what time it is and I’ll come to you, wherever you are and I want you to punch me as hard as you can.” 

“What?” 

“I’m dead serious. You haven’t done nothing wrong and it’s not fair that you have to take the punishment for everyone else’s shit. So take it out on me.” When she laughs, he shakes his head. “No, really. Right in the gut. I’ve bet you got a killer right hook.” 

And even though it’s funny and they’re laughing, he knows it’s not that simple and it’s nothing he can cure. He’s not a doctor, not a magician but it’s the best he can offer her. “I love you, you know? I’ll do whatever for you.” 

She’s hugging him then and she’s still got tea in her hand (but most of it has sloshed out of the mug and onto their shirts) and she’s not laughing but she’s also not crying so it’s an improvement for the moment.

“Can we just… take a ride?” She asks.

They get lost and in the clear night air, she thinks maybe she’s not insane


End file.
